Frost & Flames | Soulmate AU 2 |

Twenty-Nine

"I don't think he likes this whole cat carrier thing very much," I say, setting the carrier down on the floor near the couch.

"Well, then, let's let him out quickly," Rowan replies, crouching down in front of the carrier to unlock the metal cage door.

For a moment, nothing happens. There's no movement to be observed as Rowan and I stare with bated breath. Then a tiny pink nose pokes out, followed slowly by the rest of the cat's white face and then his black head. The head turns left to right once, before a single white paw is placed carefully on the floor. The next paw follows, tan instead of white, and suddenly the cat is completely out of the carrier, glancing around as he takes in his new surroundings.

"Do you think he likes our place?" I whisper.

"I don't know, Lake, I don't speak cat," Rowan quips back. I pout, crouching beside him and sitting down completely so I'm at the cat's level.

The cat submits to being pet just as he did at the shelter: cautiously but interested. He's really a beautiful cat, tortoiseshell with all types of colors spotted here and there at random. His back is generally brown mottled with tan and white in places. His front paws are two different colors, white and tan, like mismatched mittens. His back paws are black. His tail is brown with a white tip. The cat's eyes are even two different colors: blue and gold. This cat's one in a million, really, considering the eyes and the mere fact that he's a dude. Apparently male tortoiseshell cats aren't exactly common.

He shoves his head into my hand when I reach up to scratch between his ears. Well, I scratch between his one ear and the little brown nub where his other ear used to be. No one at the shelter knew what happened to his ear, just that it was missing and required care when he was brought in. It's likely the reason he had been at the shelter so long by the time Rowan and I showed up.

The cat doesn't have a name yet. His name was 'Hershey' at the shelter, but he doesn't seem to be particularly attached to it. Rowan and I figure we'll let Bella pick a name when she gets home from school.

"I think he likes me," I say smugly when a tiny rumble of a purr starts up, the cat's eyes slipping close as I run a hand from his head to mid-back, long sweeps of gentle pets.

Rowan snorts.

"Well he should join the club," he replies, turning to squint down at the feline. "You better keeps your paws off my man, mister."

I stifle a laugh, not wanting to startle the little dude. I think it's fair that we give him a little time to acclimate to his new home before we start making loud noises and sudden movements. It's why Rowan and I have already decided that I'm going to stay with the cat while he goes to pick up Bella. Just dropping him alone in a new place all alone without any adjustment period doesn't seem very fair.

"Let's make some lunch," I say, getting to my feet carefully. Rowan and I went to two different shelters a considerable distance apart before we decided on this little dude, so it's already one in the afternoon.

I bend over to give the cat a few more scritches before straightening and heading into the kitchen.

"You don't think he'll tear up the curtains or something if we leave him alone, do you?" Rowan says, following me over towards the refrigerator. I pull the door open, side eyeing him before turning my gazes into the fridge to see what our options for lunch are.

"He's a cat, Row," I say quietly, grabbing some lunch meat so we can make sandwiches. I hand the bags to Rowan, and make sure to grab the mayo and brown mustard before I close the fridge, as well. Rowan likes mayo on his sandwiches, and while the idea of putting a sandwich with mayo on it in my mouth is almost enough to make me gag, I support him. "They scratch things."